


I Don't Need You To Do Me Favours,  But I Sure Need You To Lie

by ImpossibleElement



Series: Hesitant Alien Series [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: And smart, Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow, John Watson is Perfect, Johnlock Roulette, M/M, Marriage, Prison, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 00:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10673523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpossibleElement/pseuds/ImpossibleElement
Summary: He believed it was understandable, since his freedom and basically the rest of his life -however long it will be- were on the line.





	I Don't Need You To Do Me Favours,  But I Sure Need You To Lie

**Author's Note:**

> You know if I come around this way again it’s gonna be a surprise.

[ ](https://ibb.co/h4H7q6)

###  ** I Don't Need You To Do Me Favours, But I Sure Need You To Lie **

 

 

The gate to his cell opened, revealing the figure of his big brother. He usually felt annoyed by the mere presence of the other man, yet today he couldn’t find it in himself to be bitter about it; after all, he would need all the help he could get if he was ever going to get out of this colossal mess. He just wished it could be John who came to talk to him. Mycroft raised an eyebrow, as if knowing exactly what the younger man was thinking.

“Well?” The detective asked, clearly impatient to get on with the news. He believed it was understandable, since his freedom and basically the rest of his life —however long it will be— were on the line. The whole debacle with him shooting Magnussen in front of a list of witnesses had turned out to be quite inconvenient. Landing him in jail, and waiting for a trial which will dictate how his future will play out.

“We’ve reached a solution.” Mycroft stated. Looking for all that is worth like a man that wanted to be anywhere else but there. Clearly the cell in which they had thrown the detective was far more rudimentary of what he was used to. Yet Sherlock refused to share prison with every other criminal he had ever helped to detain. He may be addicted to danger but he wasn’t stupid.

“Tell me everything.” Sherlock said to his brother, and raised his legs to cross them over the bed. His hands already stippling under his chin. He felt ready to analyse the grandiose answer his brother had conjured up, the one which he was sure will be full of holes. 

“See for yourself.” Mycroft said while he handed him the files. He possessed an air of reluctance that had the detective dreading opening them, the government official was clearly not satisfied with this option, yet he must not have had another alternative. Resigning himself to just open the bloody file and finding out for himself how bad it was, he sighed and started to read.

Two words in, he was already paused into confusion. Mycroft couldn’t do this to him. _‘Marriage Certificate’_ it read, and for some reason he felt his hands start to tremble involuntarily. His eyes, once they were working again, skimmed the rest of the page; taking note of the date —which was for a month before the incident, apparently his brother was incapable of making the mess go away, but he at least could file a few illegal documents— and came to rest on the names, a quick signature already scrawled out in the space beneath _John Hamish Watson_ , and only his signature missing for it to be real. 

“A partial solution,” Mycroft explained, not really aware that his brother was having a reality crisis at the very same moment; or maybe he was and he was offering him a tiny respite in the form of a distraction. “We will still have to get rid of the evidential gun.” He said, with a tone that reminded him of when they were children and Mycroft used to explain things that were clearly too complicated for a three year old —like calculous— and Sherlock did not really care about that at the moment. 

“This!?” The younger man asked outraged. “This is your solution?” The papers were thrown to the bed in indignation and Sherlock stood up to start pacing, as he always did when he was frustrated. How could he? How could his brother manipulate John to go along with this? He was supposed to keep him out of it!

“It isn’t actually.” The other spoke. Shocking his brother into stopping his movement.He was quickly losing the grip on the conversation. “At least it’s not _my_ solution.” If this wasn’t Mycroft’s evil scheme, then whose was it? “It’s John’s.” He replied and Sherlock felt he was about to plummet to the floor in turmoil.

“He says this way he can’t be asked to testify against you.” The other attempted to explain, but Sherlock could not really get past the part when he said his blogger had come up with it. “And since all the other witnesses’ names have already been cleared off when the list suddenly disappeared, it would solve that part of the problem.” His brother was making sense, a lot of sense actually. John’s plan was perfect, except for one tiny detail:

“I won’t let him do this, Mycroft.” He adamantly said. “He’s married!” Sherlock may not like Mary that much these days, but John surely must. He couldn’t let him renounce to something that could make him happy just so he could get him out of a mess of his own making. Much less seeing as the reason he was _in_ this mess in the first place was because of trying to protect said wife of John’s to reach her own self-earned demise so quickly.

“Technically his wife never existed, so no.” Mycroft told, handing him another file that contained the clearance of all her actions by the name of Mary Mortsan, there was even one detailing her extraction, detention and further release into witness protection program with yet another new name. It was as if she had disappeared. Making her no more than breath on a mirror. “He’s all yours.” The government commented, and Sherlock gasped at how wrong that sounded. No matter what that piece of paper said, John will never be his; but he will always be John’s.

At the end of the day, there was no much more they could do to aid in his situation, he really had shot himself in the foot with that move. Sighing and feeling like his heart was ripping in half at the mockery of an act he was carrying out, he signed the papers quickly and thrown himself on the bed in exhaustion. Mycroft gathered the files and made for the door, looking back at his brother with a worried expression.

“Just get me out of here.” Sherlock demanded and turned his back to the room in finality.

 

It took a few days to get everything else with the evidence sorted, as they had anticipated, John hadn’t been called to the stand and before he knew it he was back at Baker Street. Where he surprisingly found John already there, he had taken the liberty of moving his things back in now that Mary was gone. There was obviously no problem about that, 221B will forever be his home, yet Sherlock hesitated in doubt on whether he should say something. But as soon as he saw that the blogger was displaying a pleased smile he simply couldn’t do it. 

Two months had passed and the dust had finally settled. The both of them allowing themselves to fall back into a comfortable routine of tea and banter. Sherlock figured it was the perfect time to bring the subject up.

“Mycroft is bringing the divorce papers tomorrow.” He said, and he tried to appear nonchalant about the whole matter. Thankfully John had never been really good at reading people.

“Oh.” The other said surprised, clearly not expecting to be talking about this that day.

“Yes, you no longer have to be married to me so...” The detective started, but trailed off when he saw the somehow disappointed look on his friend’s face. “Problem?” He asked, sounding much more apprehensive than he would have liked.

“Um, no.” John said, shaking himself out of the stupor. “I was just thinking... what if we didn’t?” He asked and looked at the carpet of the sitting room as if it held the answers to all the universe’ questions.

“Didn’t what?” Sherlock asked dumbly, completely at a loss of what could the blonde be possibly talking about.

“Get a divorce.” The soldier explained, and turned to look him in the eye, a determined expression on his face.

“Then we would still be married to each other.” The heart of the younger man was thudding loudly inside his ribcage, ready to burst from the hope he could feel flaring up inside him.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” The blogger asked and came to stand in front of the detective, taking a chance and touching his lips to Sherlock’s. For just a moment they were kissing, sweet and softly, then they parted and the detective failed to predict whether he will ever be able to breathe normally again after that; not that he was complaining, of course. Breathing was, after all, boring.

“Not at all.” He answered and smiled. Genuinely happy with the situation. He was married to John Watson, and he will stay married for the foreseeable future, and that was more than good. That was brilliant.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Get The Gang Together by Gerard Way inspired this story.
> 
> Let me know what you think.


End file.
